Page 39 of Defend Me

I know what he’s thinking. Just like Dad.

But Dad’s money and reputation are helping Noah now. I wonder how he feels being on the other side of it.

“I’ll need to talk to Patrick,” I say.

Noah sits up. “I’ll come with you.”

I cut him a look. “No, you will not. You are the defendant, not the investigator. Let me do my job.”

He leans back against the couch and stares up at the ceiling, a muscle working in his jaw. I think about how hard it would be for me, to not be able to do the one thing I’m passionate about, the one thing I’m good at. Again, I have the urge to say something comforting.

But I’d probably just screw up like I did with the hand pat earlier.

First thing tomorrow, I’m going back to Magnolia Bay.

CHAPTER TWELVE

VON

The next morning, I come downstairs to find Noah has made me both a coffee and some sort of green juice.

“What’s this?” I ask.

He points to a Vitamix I’d forgotten I had, now sitting on the counter by the espresso machine.

“I figured you weren’t one for big breakfasts,” he says.

I take a sip and damn, it’s delicious. Who is this Noah, rearranging kitchens and cooking dinners and blending green juice?

If he thinks he’s the only one that can be considerate, he’s got another think coming.Ican be considerate. I can benice. I can be so nice he won’t know what hit him.

Okay, maybe being nice doesn’t come as naturally to me as it does to him, but I’ll figure something out. I can’t exist in this state of him one-upping me in my own home.

“I’d tell you not to leave the apartment, but I know you won’t listen to me,” I say. “So here.” I hand him a spare key to the elevator.

Noah’s eyes brighten. He’s wearing track pants and a hoodie, and stubble shadows his cheeks and jaw. It’s actually not a bad look for him.

“There’s a gym on the second floor, if you want to use it,” I tell him. “You can ask your new best friends downstairs for the code.”

“Hey, thanks,” he says.

“Just do me a favor—stay in the neighborhood, okay? I don’t need you getting lost on the subway.”

“I think I can figure out the subway, Von,” he says.

“Yeah, well, I’d rather be around to chaperone.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “You take the subway?”

He’s got me there.

“I’ll stay close to home,” he promises, sliding onto one of the stools at the island.

“Hey, do you mind doing me a favor? Pop is going to stay at Mr. Sanderson’s cabin for a few days. I texted Charlotte but she hasn’t responded—she can probably help him pack and drive him up there since school hasn’t started yet. Do you mind checking with her?”

I still need to talk to this Charlotte person anyway. I note this is the second time Noah’s mentioned her. I wonder if there’s something going on between them. “She’s in school?” I ask.

Noah laughs. “She teaches kindergarten.”

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